


Batter my heart (three person'd God)

by blakefancier



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-25
Updated: 2011-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 16:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are in love with a man who hates you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Batter my heart (three person'd God)

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I like playing with the narrative pov.

You want to touch him, his cheek, his hair, the skin where shoulder meets neck. But you're afraid there will be only anger. You can deal with scorn for the cause, but not for your desire, your love. Maybe Avon is right, maybe you are a fool.

You are in love with a man who hates you.

In love with a man who is the antithesis of all you believe.

In love.

As contrary as Avon is, he comes to you.

*****

Leather and studs and silly haircut, Avon walks into Blake's room with an air of studied calm. Without a word, he touches Blake's mouth with his fingers.

"Breathe, Blake," he says.

Blake breathes, kisses Avon's fingers, then kisses his mouth. Slowly he pulls apart the snaps of the leather tunic, sliding it down and off. Underneath is a black, silk shirt.

Blake sighs, running hands along the soft fabric, feeling Avon's breath hitch and stutter. He gasps as Avon bites into his lower lip, then soothes it with his tongue.

Blake steps away.

He looks down at Avon's hands, so damn steady as they strip him of his clothing. It is unfair that Avon is calm when he is so terrified.

"On the bed." Avon's voice is strained.

Blake nods and settles onto his stomach. He wants to tell Avon that it is all right, he can hurt him if he wants. He can bear the burden of pain as long as Avon touches.

And Avon touches, opening him with deft fingers (one, two three). He moans into the pillow, murmuring nonsense as a cock, wonder of wonders, Avon's cock, slides into him.

As kisses are pressed into his hair, he learns that Avon can be gentle.

Afterward he is reminded of Avon's cruelty.

*****

I watch through a sleepy haze as he stands and cleans himself. I pull back the covers and go to him. Before he can dress, I come up from behind him, and try to place a kiss on his cheek. He pulls away.

Stung, I say, "You really do hate me, don't you?"

I want him to say "no, oh no" and kiss me. But Avon is not one for reassurances.

"Yes, Blake, I really do." Avon smiles then slides into his clothes. Without a backward glance, he leaves.

There is nothing else to do, so I curl up into bed and touch the warm spot he's left behind.

It is my fault.

*****

You love him and so his image stays in your mind.

*****

He imagines them touching.

*****

And then I fall asleep.


End file.
